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Story Time

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2020

Stories (265)
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1238 Followers
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265 Stories

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Twelve Good Pages

Submitted to Contest #208

It would be one thing if we were stuck in a book. There’s a respectability to being characters in a book. I was discussing it with my husband last night, and we both agreed that a novel--or even a novella--would be just fine. Not that we know the difference between a novel and a novella, but I think a novella is sexier. Not that I’m opposed to being in something sexy as long as I’m not the one supplying the sex. I’m not a prude, mind you, but I’m not doing anything prurient just so Reese Witherspoon can read all about it and then tell her ...

14 likes 6 comments 6
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The Onion

Submitted to Contest #207

The mayonnaise has not been made.As the onion contemplates how long it will be until someone notices that the mayonnaise has not been made, it sees Chef Doyle trying not to cry.Chef Doyle does not cry at work. In general, Chef Doyle does not cry at all, but the onion has no way of knowing that. We only know what the onion knows, and the onion knows that, for the most part, crying at work is frowned upon. The onion also knows that crying in a busy kitchen on a Saturday night is not helpful when the tickets are already piling up and the weeds ...

34 likes 41 comments 41
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Surface Tension

Submitted to Contest #206

As the raft made its way across the river, Emerson Carver forgot his own name. He looked down into the prized water of the Philipse and couldn’t find his face. The surface was coated with gray algae and there were disturbances from the paddles pushing through the tension. He sat back down and rubbed his hands over the life vest that was too small for him. Could it really hold him up if something occurred? He tried to remember his first name. He couldn’t. He knew the last name sounded like Shaver. He was close, but would never get any closer ...

27 likes 6 comments 6
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Surfer's End

Submitted to Contest #205

Near the rock where tourists pose for photos, there is a set of spot where you're not supposed to sit. Constance climbs the rock under the Buck Moon and sits down right at the tip. The spot where you’re not supposed to sit. She has a small, white paper bag with her and a copy of People magazine from three weeks ago. The bargain was to bring the most recent issue, but she didn’t have time to stop at the drugstore and grab the new one, so three weeks old would have to do. Although there were rules, whoever was in charge of the bargain seemed t...

15 likes 6 comments 6
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Saguaro

Submitted to Contest #204

She got sent out with a basket of pecan bread and a bad cough. The flu had whipped through and nearly killed Rebecca the same way it had four other little girls in town. This was going to be her first outing since she recovered, and her mother pulled the red bonnet tight on her head as though sunshine might end up bringing back Death to finish the job. “Straight there,” her mother said, “I don’t want to find out you stopped to look at the horses at Friedman Ranch. This is a test errand. See if you can get there and back without collapsing. Y...

28 likes 19 comments 19
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Cap and Gown

Submitted to Contest #203

They are very excited to graduate. When the diplomas have been distributed, they will step out onto the sidewalk that stretches far enough to accommodate the audiences that typically pour out of the downtown theater where, once a year, Joseph Silberman High School has their graduation. The sidewalk has seen the tuxedo crowd turn into the shorts-and-a-t-shirt crowd after tours headlined by stars from Broadway became non-equity three-show stays. The sidewalk had opinions about theater, but we have no need to interrogate a sidewalk. We have...

25 likes 14 comments 14
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Jack and Pops from Brandy Hollow

That tree was nothing but a seedling when first we sized up each other. Running up to me to check my pulse. Egads, the mouse is a man! Nothing to be afraid of, but turquoise flints in my vocabulary. You dared my hand to find yours and away we went. Twice down the long hill, once down the rocks. Stop where you see the sign for Brandy Hollow. Well, I don’t see us going back there anytime soon. Not for me to tell you what age prevents, but we are not a sonic boom. Maybe if they reinvent the way of breath and oxygen. Nickel i...

8 likes 5 comments 5
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I Wrote This Song for You

Submitted to Contest #201

Dear Sereva, I wanted you to listen To this song I wrote I’ve never written A song in my life Or anything, really In my life Not a poem Not a short story Not unless it was in school And a teacher Was making me do it The thought of paragraphs Terrifies me to this day And so even now I have to break down the lines As I’m typing this out to you I also have to be careful Because the nurses here Love to keep an eye on us As though we’re prisoners Instead of residents here At Farmington Pond My daughter dropped me here On my sixty-nint...

26 likes 15 comments 15
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Noah's Shark

Submitted to Contest #200

Martha, if I knew more than what I was telling you, I would tell you more. I’m telling you what I know, and all I know is what Gosha told me after Saresha told her after Saresha talked to Noah’s wife Na’amah spoke to her about it and told her to bring the turtles. I don’t know what Noah needs turtles for, but somebody told me--and I can’t say who--that Noah might be building a turtle farm. All turtles moving forward. The occasional salamander, but mostly turtles. Do you believe that? What is he going to do with all those turtles? I asked G...

37 likes 23 comments 23
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Shapeless

She returned on a Thursday with the ashes of her fling tucked safely under her arm. Placed upon the mantle, the urn looked like a participation trophy from a little league tournament, not a final resting place for a man she’d only met after his untimely demise. Placing one hand on the urn before heading to the bedroom to unpack her suitcase, she whispered “Thank you” and then realized how silly it was to whisper. There was a very good chance she was the only one home. A very good chance, but not a certainty. * * * * * * Mindy Beg...

11 likes 4 comments 4
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What You're Going to Say Next

Submitted to Contest #198

Principal Alonzo called Stephen Shy into her office at 11:04 on a Tuesday morning to discuss why using robots to write term papers is unacceptable. Stephen walked into her office seemingly unconcerned about why he had been summoned. Most of the sixth graders walked in sheepish--even anxious. Seventh graders tended to walk in providing a kind of false confidence that would fall away as soon as Principal Alonzo picked up the phone and interrupted their parents at work. The eighth graders were the best at appearing calm, but a raised voice an...

23 likes 11 comments 11
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The Cannonball

Submitted to Contest #197

They would like me to sit at the end of the barrel and wait my turn. First the elephants dance, then the clowns cast their pies, then the lions roar and the tigers hiss and only at the finale, is the fuse lit-- The Cannonball. I stagger my breathing as my body crunches up to fit inside the narrow pipe. No matter how many times I execute my stunt, the sweat still finds me in all the worst places. On the underside of my chin. The back of my ankles. In a small pool tilting upon my right ear. I tell myself that if even a molecule of my own...

33 likes 19 comments 19
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Kung Pao

Claudia approached me holding a box of kung pao chicken. “Since when do I eat kung pao chicken,” I asked, holding a salad from Bernfield’s and an umbrella to shield my new hairdo from the rain. Claudia lightly scooped her arm through mine with a kind of grace the version of myself I currently am has none of whatsoever, and she guided me into an alley behind a lingerie store. “You need to quit your job,” Other Claudia informed me, as though she were telling me to find a new dentist or replace one of the lightbulbs in my many lava lamps....

12 likes 6 comments 6
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Sancho Panza's Last Dance

Submitted to Contest #195

I return to avenge my friend in the shadow of a windmill. Charging at it on my trusty steed, I cry a warrior’s cry. “No hay viento en el infierno!” The windmill will not budge. It only turns. I pull back on the reins. My horse makes not a sound. There is no sound to make. It would be captured by the wind. My horse is not a horse. She is a giant caterpillar. She is not a butterfly, but her name is Luna. Luna Panza, my only living friend. All others are ghosts. Ghosts that search the Heavens for my face. “Sigo vivo y no se porque...

24 likes 10 comments 10
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Frankel and Kelso at the Track

Submitted to Contest #194

“Why did you tell him you’d eat your hat?”“Those were the terms. Joseph Macabee comes in less than third, and I eat my hat.”“But it’s such a nice hat, Frankel.”“I know, Kelso, but those were the terms. You know how these guys are.”“A horse only ever owns two or three nice hats in his life.”“I got at least six good hats back at the stable.”“I’ve never seen six good hats in your stall.”“Well, you shouldn’t be looking around my stall anyway. Mind your business.”“I’m not trying to look around. I just notice how it looks when I come to pick you u...

36 likes 12 comments 12
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